Mad Girl
by Oh Little Love
Summary: Yes, the rage brings you back to life. Because that's the only way you can feel alive anymore. When you scream and cry out into the silence that tortures you. When you relentlessly slam your hands against the floor. When you rip and claw the paint off these damned walls. When you shatter the glass mirror that stares at you constantly.


**Disclaimer:** Nothing is mine.

**Warning:** this is a Dark Fic. Rated M because of language, not much more than that.

**XXX**

You. You sick little girl. From such an early age you thought you were something. What? You think you're special? You think you deserve happiness? No. You deserve pain. Endless, merciless, pain.

But now you're just a girl filled with rage. Fiery, untamable rage. It courses through your veins, making your blood boil and every nerve ending light up.

_Back to life._

Yes, the rage brings you back to life. Because that's the only way you can feel alive anymore. When your anger takes control. When you scream and cry out into the silence that tortures you. When you relentlessly slam your hands against the floor. When you rip and claw the paint off these damned walls. When you shatter the glass mirror that stares at you constantly. When you hurl yourself to the floor with sobs that rack your body.

You need this rage. You _need_ this. Because you need to avenge your friends and family. You need to find a way to do something. Because they're all dead and you need revenge. All your closest loved ones. The ones that fought alongside you in the war. Dead. It's a wonder they didn't kill you. Why are they even keeping you alive?

_You're nothing now._

He's deduced you to nothing. The man that took you all those years ago. When he stole you away into the night and refused to let you go.

And at first you were afraid. Of Tom _fucking _Riddle. He would have his little minions torture you for hours. Then he would ask for you. They would drag your struggling body to him and then he would torture you as well.

_Pathetic._

You would feel the pain overcome you. _And your skin would burst and your eyes would burn and your bones would shatter. _Then it would stop. You always assumed you were dead. But of course, you would open your eyes and all was returned to life. Then you would proceed to vomit all over the floor. It lingered with your blood, making you feel disgusting and dirty.

_But then,_

A ray of light. A beacon of hope.

He had always watched you at the Death Eater meetings. And you always looked at him with those big brown eyes, begging him to save you. You would fall to your knees before the Dark Lord and dig your nails into your palms to keep from crying out in pain, all the while looking at him desperately. He was your last hope.

Severus Snape.

You're laughing the first time he comes to your room.

_Laughing._

Because it's just so _fucking_ hilarious. You know he didn't come to save you, he's just another one sent to torture you. How could you let youself believe that he would rescue you? The stupid Mudblood, finding silly hope with her former professor.

_But then he saves you!_

And oh, you're so happy. Despite your poor, rugged state, you're giddy with excitement. You can't even walk out of the small room that had trapped you for so many months. But no matter, he carries you out to safety. He brings you out into fresh air of the night and you hug him in exhaused happiness.

Through it all, somehow, he escapes with you.

_He's the only one who understands._

You two, you're just a pair of broken souls.

Now, he inspects the numerous scars that litter your hands and arms, tracing them gently. You relish in his touch. A touch that is not destructive or painful. You're still getting used to the idea of comforting physical contact. But of course, so is he.

And now you ask him once again, like you always do, "Why?"

"Why what?" He responds, a curious expression clouding his face.

"Why did you save me, when it only meant you had to hide from Voldemort for the rest of your life?"

"Because I needed to save someone. I needed an excuse to live with myself." His expression is sour and grim.

So once again, you climb over to him and comfort him until he falls asleep, gently hushing him away. Then eventually, you drift away to sleep as well, only to be woken up an hour later by your nightmares. But no matter, he is there. And he cradles you like you would have done for him. And together, you both find a way to momentarily forget the past and live on.

**XXX**

**AN:** Reviews are welcomed with an awkward Voldemort hug and some Honeydukes chocolate fresh off Professor Lupin's desk.


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